Irene--beginnings

11:43 pm Aug. 27th. Lightning illuminates streams of water distorting my vision of the tree top outside my window. It bends and sways in feverish contortions. It is hurrican Irene and she is knocking on my doorstep. Direct hit, they say, urban flooding, destruction, deserted streets, and no transportation. The city never sleeps, but tonight, and perhaps tomorrow, city dwellers stay put and watch. And when it is done, this city will once again become like a small town, helping, caring, encouraging. It has been almost ten years, but we remember terrorism, whether man made or natural.